


boiling point

by vividfriend



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Hair Braiding, Smut, Yaz is desperate, and the Doctor is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22878367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividfriend/pseuds/vividfriend
Summary: The fact of the matter is that the Doctor has been seducing her and, really, who is she to stop it?
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 182





	boiling point

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna post this before the latest episode as a treat before the emotional blow we all knew was gonna happen, but then I got distracted. So now I’m posting it as a treat to help soothe over what did actually happen in that episode.
> 
> Side note: this is literally the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. Excuse me while I go hide myself in SHAME.
> 
> EDIT: I would like to say I know nothing about fixing machines and literally just threw some words out there lmao

If Yaz has learned anything from her travels throughout the universe it’s that the Doctor is probably the biggest idiot she’s ever met.

Don’t get her wrong, she believes that the Doctor is one of the brightest, most brilliant women out there. She’s a shining embodiment of hope, offering to help those in need even in the darkest corners of the universe… but Yaz has to admit that the woman is as good at reading social cues as an infant is at understanding object permanence. It just doesn’t work out.

Recently the Doctor has been acting… differently around her. A hand brushing against her lower back, leaning into her personal space, or speaking to her as if she’s the only person in the room.

The fact of the matter is that the Doctor has been seducing her and, really, who is she to stop it?

Seducing might be too strong a word. Maybe _accidentally_ teasing is a better fit. Seducing implies intent and certainly the blonde is not intent on turning Yaz into a bumbling mess of nerves every time she nears. This is _the Doctor_ , Queen of Being Oblivious (title bestowed by one Yasmin Khan) after all. There is no way in hell that she is coming onto her.

No, this has to be her own issue, Yaz muses. A poor projection of her own feelings onto the actions of the Doctor, made worse by all these moments. It has to be an accident on the blonde’s part. She doesn’t know how it makes the brunette feel when she does all those things.

These feelings of Yaz’s are new and had come to a head after a particularly brutal day spent running from one would-be murder to the next. Hours spent wondering if the Doctor were alive had grated on her, leaving her raw and vulnerable. Adrenaline, fear, and relief burst through her when they’d finally reunited. It was natural really that Yaz couldn’t help but wrap her arms around the small blonde in a bruising embrace.

They’d parted after a long moment, just enough to look into each other’s eyes and that was when Yaz saw it: hunger, desperation, _need_. A flicker and then it was gone, locked away behind flecks of swirling gold within bright greens and browns.

At the end of the day, when she was safely tucked away in her room with a hand twitching between her thighs and hurtling towards a sweet release, she realised the Doctor’s eyes were just a desperate projection of her own desire.

After that harsh realisation, she has tried her best to stay away from the Doctor or at least keep her thoughts respectable. The blonde is her friend and she isn’t about to lose her because she can’t keep it in her pants, which she’s quickly learning is--

_Easier said than done_ , Yaz thought as she wipes beaded sweat from her brow and pointedly looks anywhere else but at the Doctor’s ass. They’re in an engine room in the depths of the TARDIS where the Doctor is toiling away at the fringe reactor, or whatever that is.

She’s been playing dutiful assistant, handing the Doctor tool after tool as she works. When the blonde asked her earlier for help with something, she quickly learned that she’s a fool to think she can ever stay away.

That was half an hour ago and now Yaz is hot and bothered and not all because of the dense heat radiating off the reactor. No, Yaz’s problem lay with the Doctor who’s currently bending over, arms deep in mechanical wiring. The blonde shed her coat some time ago, offering an unfettered view of her ass (not that she’s looking, mind you).

“Oh, this is bothersome. Can’t quite reach.” The Doctor grumbles into the machine, breaking Yaz’s thoughts. “This used to not be such a problem… though I was a bit taller back then.”

Another grunt reaches Yaz’s ears as she watches the Doctor stand on her toes, bending father into the machine. The blue material of her trousers tightens impeccably and Yaz’s mouth waters at the sight.

Okay, fine _maybe_ she’s looking - she’s only human (she declines to think that even humans try not to blatantly drool over their best friends’ asses). Just a quick peak won’t hurt, right? A one and done. Then she can go back to pretending she’s not a total mess.

Heat throbs between her legs as she finally lets herself get a full look, swooning on the spot when the Doctor reaches even further, pants stretching even tighter. It’s not fair. How could someone look so _perfect_? Desperately, she realises a cold shower is needed, stat.

“Yaz?”

She cuts her gaze upwards to see the Doctor staring over her shoulder. Heavy-lidded eyes glinting with something indecipherable latch onto her own and she flushes as hot embarrassment rips through her at being caught red-handed, like a hormonal teenager no less. With such a direct hit to her dignity, she feels she may collapse on the spot. Her only hope is that her death is swift.

But death doesn’t come and the Doctor is looking at her expectantly so Yaz takes a breath and continues on because she is nothing if not predictable. 

“Uhm,” Yaz licks her lips, “yes, Doctor?”

The blonde clears her throat, cheeks pinkening. This heat is going to kill them both it seems, but Yaz knows she’s boiling from something else entirely.

“Could ya pass me that internal reaction clamp?” At Yaz’s questioning gaze the Doctor continues, “Oh, the one on the left - no, the other left. It looks like - _yes_ , that one!”

When she hands over what looks suspiciously like ordinary pliers, the Doctor grasps her wrist instead of the tool.

“Yaz, you look absolutely flushed,” the Doctor thumbs her wrist, “and your pulse is racing.”

“It’s, ah, it’s just the heat is all. I’m totally fine!” Yaz squeaks, face flushing even more.

“Maybe,” the Doctor softly murmurs, heavy-lidded look back in full force, “we should find a way to cool you off.”

Yaz promptly drops the tool on her own foot.

“ _Shit_!”

The Doctor’s eyes widen, snatching her hand back. “Yaz, are you--”

“Mmph fine,” Yaz wheezes. “You know, you’re right - I _do_ need to cool down so I’m gonna, I’m just--yeah.” She hobbles back, pointing a thumb to the door behind her and flees.

Need courses through her, landing between her legs in a throbbing ache as she remembers the dark expression in the blonde’s eyes.

_Fuck_. She can’t even have a normal conversation without turning into an aching bundle of nerves. She needs to get ahold of her thoughts, fast.

Yaz promises she’ll try harder next time, but first she needs that cold shower.

Next time proves even more difficult a few odd days later. Yaz really needs to stop promising herself that she won’t act like anything else than a mess when it comes to the Doctor.

Prompted by the blonde for a girls night ( _I’ve never had one of those before!_ ), Yaz finds herself sitting on the purple sofa in the entertainment room with the Doctor between her legs. 

_Not like that_ , she snaps at herself as a familiar burn makes itself known. No, she’s having a perfectly _normal_ and _friendly_ hair braiding session with her best friend.

It’s not her fault that the Doctor decided the best way to do that is to sit on the floor between her legs. Blonde hair tickles the bare skin of her thighs and she mentally curses herself for wearing pajama shorts.

Giving herself a mental shake and pointedly ignoring such thoughts, she chooses instead to focus on the Doctor’s hair, running her hands through blonde tufts and marveling at how nice it feels in her hands. The scent of coconut wafts to her nose, pleasant yet oddly familiar.

“Your hair is so soft.” She sighs as she begins twisting blonde strands into familiar patterns.

“Thanks! I’ve, uh, taken to using your shampoo.” The Doctor admits. “I’ve never had to get women’s shampoo before--which, by the way, did you know there are more than 610 million produced on Earth every year? So it was just easier to use yours, but then I found yours smells _really_ nice so I kept using it and I hope you’re not mad--”

“I don’t mind. It suits you.” Yaz confesses as she finishes a small braid on the side to frame her face. She’s surprised to find it’s the truth. So many years dealing with Sonya taking her things without asking usually put her on edge with issues like this, but it’s different with the Doctor. _Everything is different with the Doctor_ , a voice in her head gently reminds her.

“Oh, good.” The Doctor exhales. “I’ve always thought it smells really good on you.” 

Then in a moment Yaz will never forget, the blonde turns her head ever so slightly to face her inner thigh. Hot breath ghosts her bare skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. Air crackles with charged energy as hazel eyes meet brown in a sidelong glance. “You smell good here too.”

Flushing, a broken muttered thanks escapes her lips, and she blesses her skincare routine as she hopes the scent of lotion and not the aching need between her legs is the only thing the Doctor can smell.

She realises that she needs to do something fast. Her thoughts and body are quickly hurtling in the opposite direction of what is right and moral so she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Movies!”

The Doctor’s face scrunches in confusion as the moment breaks. “Movies?”

“Yes! A proper girls night ends with movies. Up, up!” She all but drags the Doctor onto the purple sofa and safely out of reach.

"Oh, brilliant! I love a good movie. Y’know I once starred in a few myself back in the day..."

She lets the blonde ramble on as she peruses the TARDIS's extensive film collection, plucking out an exceedingly gory looking one in hopes that it will help deter her increasingly inappropriate thoughts. It's only after she has the movie playing that she realises there's another problem entirely. She didn't consider the Doctor would be afraid of horror movies, not after everything they've seen and done together. The blonde is as fearless as they come, or so she thought as another scare on screen has the Doctor grasping Yaz's thigh under the thick blanket that was placed over them before the movie began.

"Sorry, new body, new reactions," the Doctor murmurs but doesn't move her hand away.

She tries to watch the movie, she really does, but her brain has short circuited and can only focus on the feel of the Doctor's hands on her bare skin. Cool fingers begin traces patterns into the soft skin there under the blanket. She bites back a gasp as heat shoots directly to her center and she presses her thighs together in an attempt to stave off the creeping desire. 

Chancing a sidelong glance at the Doctor reveals nothing. The blonde is enraptured by the film as Yaz quivers at her touch. Fingers trail higher, electricity shooting through at each interval. Higher, higher still -- until Yaz can't take it anymore. This agony has to end, one way or another.

"Doctor," her voice cracks, broken from weeks of tension, "I can't do this anymore."

"What can't you do?" Hazel eyes capture her own.

"This. I can't do this." Yaz gestures between them while running another hand through her hair. A rock forms in the pit of her stomach at the thought of revealing everything, but she soldiers on. The Doctor deserves to know. "You have no idea what you do to me. Every touch, the things you say. God, I just can't take it anymore, Doctor. You've completely unraveled me and I'm, I'm afraid I'm starting to fray."

"When you say unravel, do you mean..."

She squeezes her eyes shut, not bearing to see the blonde's reaction, she whispers, "You turn me on."

"Turn you--oh, _oh_."

"It's okay if you never want to see me again. I never meant for this to happen. I'm so, so sorry." Mortified, Yaz stands to leave, but the blonde clamps down on her thigh, keeping her in place.

"What if I told you I did? Mean for it to happen, that is."

Nervous energy ripples through her as she finally meets the Doctor's eyes. Unbridled hunger stares right back. Hunger and _hope_ , she realises.

"Doctor, what’re you saying..." She needs to hear it. To hear she’s not been alone in this, whatever this is.

The blonde's cheeks flush, but she holds Yaz's gaze. "You lot say that _I'm_ oblivious, but I've been tryin' to get you to notice how I felt for weeks now. I even read a book about it. A _self help_ book, Yaz! I don't read those, I write 'em! But I read one for you, and it told me to make sure to mention how nice you smell, and how to move my body, and--"

Yaz laughs suddenly, a cracking force that breaks her own unease. Tension comes tumbling out of her in one great gasping relief. All this time and _she’s_ been the oblivious one?

"You _idiot_ . You smart, beautiful, _brilliant idiot_."

"What--" She swallows the Doctor's words as she presses their lips together. A fissure cracked, a dam burst, and Yaz's willpower all but crumbles as a hot tongue slips inside her mouth. It's everything she's wanted for weeks, maybe even longer if she's being honest. Not breaking the kiss, she throws off the blanket and straddles the Doctor's lap, wrapping her arms around her neck. A sharp groan rumbles in her throat as she grinds her hips downward, seeking friction.

"You knew all along," she pants into the Doctor's mouth. "You knew what you were doing to me." She grinds her hips again, delighting as a moan tears from the blonde's throat. She trails open mouthed kisses downward until she meets the skin of the blonde's neck and then she _sucks_.

" _Yaz,_ " the Doctor moans, tilting her head back for easier access.

"Do you know how many times I had to touch myself because of you?" She rasps into her neck. She knows she'll later be embarrassed at her own words, but right now she can't seem to care. Not when the Doctor is writhing beneath her.

"Do you know how many times _I_ had to?"

The thought of the Doctor touching herself while thinking of her sends another flood of desire coursing through her. She breaks away to move back to the Doctor's lips, deepening the kiss once more with an explorative tongue. Fingers gently caress her sides, tracing the familiar patterns from before there. Yaz decides she's waited long enough for this and grasps the hands, bringing them to her breasts without further thought.

Her nipples harden at the touch as the Doctor palms her through her shirt, pinching and flicking the sensitive skin there. When she parts for air the blonde’s lips immediately seeks a breast, laving open mouth kisses and sucking through thin cotton while tweaking the other nipple with her hand.

She runs a hand through blonde hair, fingers catching on the small braid she made earlier.

"Doctor," she pants, hips twitching, "I need you."

"Are you sure?" The blonde's fingers dance at the elastic waistband of her shorts. She's been wet since the Doctor first ambled between her legs to braid her hair and she needs _more_. Nodding encouragement, Yaz muffles a groan against the Doctor's neck as fingers slip inside her shorts.

She cants her hips forward as the Doctor finds her clit. At first only grazing there, delicately teasing her before she makes firm, delicious circles. The pleasure is so intense that she's certain she won't last long. She's so close she can feel herself already clenching in anticipation. Just a bit more and--the Doctor's fingers are gone and she almost whines in protest until there's a pressure at her entrance, and then she _does_ whine at the thought of the Doctor inside of her.

"Yes, inside, please. _Now_."

She moans, panting against the Doctor's neck as fingers finally slip inside. Yaz feels herself clench around expert fingers, and the heavy breathing in her ear from the blonde has her tightening even more. The Doctor beings thrusting into her, fingers curving and working her in all the right angles. She's sure she's never felt this way before and she thinks she may never again as weeks of built up tension coil tightly around her, desperately looking for release.

Slick sounds reach her ears, and her hips meet with every thrust, sending shockwave after shockwave through her. When the Doctor's palm bumps against her clit, Yaz cries out, coming and clenching against the fingers inside of her.

Soft breath hits her shoulder as she lets the pleasure wash through her. The Doctor's fingers stay inside of her, almost as if she's riding out Yaz's release as much as the brunette is.

After a long moment, she pulls out, and Yaz lifts her head to see nothing short of astonishment dancing amongst flecks of gold in the blonde's eyes.

"You're amazing," the Doctor says, breathless.

The sentiment warms her and she’s smiling as she presses a kiss to the blonde’s lips. When they break apart she asks, "Do you want to see how amazing I can make you feel?"

_"Please._ "

Running off the high of hearing the Doctor _beg_ for _her_ , she clumsily climbs off her lap and hastily pushes her down along the length of the sofa. Grasping at the blonde's own pajama shorts, Yaz levels her with a heated gaze, hoping the question is clear: _is this okay?_

The Doctor nods enthusiastically and that’s all the permission she needs. She eagerly rips her shorts and underwear down in one motion and dives in. Her tongue eagerly laving at her clit and she moans as the taste hits her tongue.

Normally she may have taken her time, slowly exploring and tasting every curve to find out what makes the Doctor tick but right now, after weeks of torture, she needs this. Judging from the sounds she’s eliciting from the Doctor, she needs it too.

Her lips find her clit and she sucks. The Doctor groans, back arching off the sofa. A hand finds its way into Yaz’s hair, gripping with desperation which only serves to spur her on. She moves lower, slipping a tongue past her entrance and the moan she elicits is _filthy_. 

“Yaz, like that, yes. _Right there_!”

Heat spirals through her once more as she listens to the Doctor comes undone underneath her. The grip in her hair tightens as she finds her clit again. The flat of her tongue swiping hotly across where she’s needed most, and then the Doctor’s back arches impossibly more as she comes with a cry.

Thighs quiver around Yaz as she gently laps at her, slowly helping her descend.

“Enough,” the Doctor croaks once she stops shaking. “C’mere.”

As she learned long ago, she’s all but putty when it comes to the Doctor. She shifts upwards and lays across the length of her. She knows they should probably talk about what just happened and what it all means for them, but she decides that'll have to come later. For now she happily sighs in content as their bodies meld perfectly against one another.

Yaz thought that the Doctor is the biggest idiot of them all, but she clearly needs to consider the fact she is one too.

Right now as she lays draped over the Doctor, she can’t find it in her to care all too much.

~

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for reading and, for those that do, taking the time to comment. It always makes me day reading them. :)
> 
> Catch me at @vividfriend on tumblr for more shenanigans~


End file.
